


Cold of Heart and Cold of Home

by A_Quiet_Place



Category: Naruto
Genre: AU Konoha, Happy Ending, Sad Hatake Kakashi, Subtle pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 18:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17310071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Quiet_Place/pseuds/A_Quiet_Place
Summary: An AU where the nine tailed fox was not defeated by Minato, and Konoha was destroyed. Kakashi and his ninken stay behind in the ruins for decades protecting what is left, content in their solitude until Iruka comes to trade with them.





	Cold of Heart and Cold of Home

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Commas_Mcgee for being my beta again!
> 
> I like to think this is a version of Kakashi if Might Gai weren't in his life. Sad and not a lot of fun.

The first time the scent reaches him, Kakashi is returning from a run with his pack of four ninken. Shiba and Akino smell it first, their noses far better than his own. Their ears swivel in alarm, and the pack halts their steps as they strain to listen -- to smell.

Kakashi frowns, taking down his mask to breathe in deeply. It is the scent of man, sweat, under brush and disturbed dirt – coupled with something else... something like red bean paste. He studies Konoha carefully, but finds nothing out of place. He motions the hounds on -- silent as shadows they slip into the ruins of rubble and stone of Kakashi's home, on the hunt and alert.

It's not often that he ventures into the center of the destruction, preferring the outskirts where he has made himself something of a living space -- buried under the remains of the Hatake family compound -- but the scent his pack trails after is peculiar, alarmingly so.

“It's too soon to be another trader,” Pakkun grumbles low, his pug nose turned up into the air, sniffing.

Kakashi nods in silent agreement, he does not believe in luck-- not any more. The scar across his abdomen pulls tightly in silent reminder that not all wish for company while they pick over the carcass of Konoha like vultures.

Their approach is cautious, eyes watching for interlopers. Canine ears perk up and swivel to catch the faintest sounds as they slink under the shadows of crumbling rock and rotten wood. Their steps are measured and cautious – making no sound amongst the debris. Every path they take has been traveled many times before and is carefully mapped to avoid sight. The remains of the Hokage mountain stare down at him with stern and cracked faces, all but removed from the rocky surface, reminding him of his sworn duty.

There is little left of the remaining buildings; the occasional rotted chair and broken crockery, now and then the scars left behind by violent bursts of energy. There are a few hidden treasures here and there, an emblem or a coin or two; most of what survived has been long since looted -- plucked from the devastation and clawing grip of nature by greedy hands. Soon there will be nothing at all left to take – save for what Kakashi has hidden away -- and he guards it all jealously, as if he were a dragon protecting its hoard.

The scent grows stronger as they approach the source. The largest of the pack, Bull, lowers his massive bulk into a crouching crawl, trying to remain hidden amongst the hunks of stone, Kakashi signals him to hold his place as the rubble thins out.  
  
“Just ahead,” Pakkun mutters as he sidles along beside Kakashi, almost twitching in anticipation.

Kakashi only nods and creeps forward -- the scent tickling the inside of his nose. He can't place it from before Konoha fell, but neither can he place it in the now; despite its mystery, the scent has a familiarity about it that piques his interest. Kakashi's brow furrows in concentration as he slinks around what used to be the council buildings. His hand drifts over his kunai as he moves – ready to defend or attack if he is discovered.

It is not a scent he has traded with, and as Pakkun stated, it is too soon for another merchant. Those encounters have become so rare and more dangerous as time goes by; twice in less than a month is suspicious now. Not only that, but the smell has been too stationary to be someone passing by. A treasure hunter perhaps?

He exchanges a look with Pakkun and dips around another corner, sticking to the shadows while Pakkun darts to his left, beginning to circle their target. At twenty six years old, Kakashi has learned to err on the side of caution; he has lost too many hounds to approach with trust. Anyone who comes by despite the residual stink and feeling of the power of the Nine Tails is bound to be dangerous in one way or another.

Bull stays behind him, waiting on Kakashi's call, while Shiba and Akino follow after Pakkun. Kakashi darts behind the rotten wood wall of what was once the academy and slowly glances around it.

There is a man sitting cross legged on the ground. He has created a small space around himself cleared from debris and weeds in which to rest. His clothing is unfamiliar -- muted greens and greys bearing no identifiable allegiance symbols. He has his back to Kakashi, revealing only the tan skin of his neck and dark hair tied into a severe ponytail near the top of his head.

Kakashi's eyes narrow, looking past him towards the rubble, searching for a better vantage point. There has been no indication the man has noticed him or his dogs, but he cannot afford to be too confident. He waits for the subtle flicker of movement in the distance that announces Pakkun has gotten into position before he moves.

Kakashi holds his breath keeping his peripheral gaze locked on the interloper as he slinks past another rotting wall. The wish for a recognizable face has dulled like a blade over the years -- most of those faces are long buried, but something is familiar about this man and Kakashi finds himself creeping in a wide circle around the sitting form to gain a view of his features.

He can see the man is reading, one hand carefully tracing letters from a scroll that lays spread before him; the other hovers a quill over the page of a journal that nests in his lap. Even in profile Kakashi notes frustration in his expression as he reads over the words. The scroll isn't in one piece-- half of it burnt and rotted away with poor keeping -- making the deciphering difficult. His lips move as he follows the script down the page, causing his frown to deepen as he stumbles over missing letters.

Kakashi finally shifts into a position that allows him to properly observe his guest's face. A dull spike of disappointment runs through him at its unfamiliar features. It is a face hardened by life. Stern and careful dark eyes are narrowed in concentration. His mouth does not look quick to smile; rather, it gives off the impression that few words and expressions force it to move. He is neither beautiful nor ugly, but there is a youthfulness in his face hidden in the severity of his countenance. It is a face that would be lost in a crowd if it weren't for the long scar that runs from one cheek to the other over the bridge of his nose in a straight line – a slice from a sharp weapon.

Kakashi allows his sharingan to scan over the form, searching for disguise or familiar chakra pattern; he finds nothing. Still, the scent teases him with something lost without being recognizable – and that is unacceptable.

Kakashi silently moves closer, watching for signs of discovery. He gains enough ground that he can see the smaller details of the man's actions without alerting him. Kakashi stills his breath while searching for clues in the movements. The young man's hand copies each symbol precisely-- almost artistically in some cases as he duplicates the damaged letters as they are. There is no pause in his writing, or any indication that he has noticed Kakashi's presence at all. He is either very skilled at acting or he is no threat. Kakashi can't bring himself to find out which it is just yet. He holds still instead and squints at the upside-down letters. It's an instruction manual of sorts, detailing the flow and release of chakra, he can tell that much by looking at the colors on the scroll holster. It's an old student manual from the days when Konoha was still training young shinobi.

When the young man finishes copying down every legible word, he carefully places the scroll into his back pack along with his notebook and writing tools. He stands and dusts himself off before glancing around with some apprehension. Kakashi pulls back silently, his eyes narrowed in anticipation.

Most of the scrolls have been long since looted, many by Kakashi himself, and he very much doubts this young man will find much of use in the roofless academy. Anything that had been left behind would be in similar states of decomposition as the scroll he had stumbled upon.  
  
Still, Kakashi feels no need to risk encouraging the young man's presence. He nods to the direction Shiba, Pakkun and Akino have hidden themselves and waits.  
  
A sharp snap of a twig makes the young man jolt in surprise. He straightens from his search amongst the debris and stares around with wide eyes – as easily startled as a deer. A moment later, he bolts, tearing off into the treeline as if a demon were chasing him.

Kakashi watches him leave with a vague sense of annoyance. He holds his position until Pakkun comes into view, giving him the all clear. He moves forwards slowly, stepping up to the small clearing the young man had seated himself in.

Kakashi crouches and sniffs, hoping the cleaner scent will reveal something to him that the trail did not.

There is a hint of something – a very vague scent of civilization muddled with the young man's well-traveled smell. It's not surprising, the interloper had not appeared to be a vagabond, only someone who had journeyed no small distance.  
  
Pakkun sniffs the clearing. He lets out a huffing sigh and sits, canting his squashed pug face to the side. “Might be one of the villages to the west. Smells like mountain.”  
  
Kakashi nods absently, tugging his mask back up over his nose. It might very well be that this stranger has rubbed shoulders with an old friend somewhere along the line. It would certainly explain the vague sense of familiarity.  
  
“I wonder what he was doing all the way out here. Pretty risky for someone that unaware.” Pakkun grumbles, his sleepy-eyed stare fixated on where the young man had disappeared into the trees. Kakashi has no reply; he merely shrugs and gives the area one last scan before he moves back into the ruins of Konoha. His pack follow behind him obediently, sniffing their way through the debris.

 

~~~~~~~

 

More than a month later, Kakashi has all but forgotten the young man with the dark hair and the peculiar scent. It's early morning and the weather is making a turn towards the warmer. His attentions are on the ninken as they toil away under the watchful eyes of what is left of the Hokage mountain. They are helping him prepare a small vegetable garden hidden amongst the rubble; the seeds are a surprising bonus of his last interaction with a passing merchant.  
  
He stands up to stretch, pressing his fists into his lower back and grimacing as it pops. A moment later he is frozen in place, blinking into the sun as the spiced smell wafts past his nose. He turns his head to regard the rest of the village ruins, a frown creasing his brow.  
  
“Hn,” Pakkun rumbles as the pack come to stand beside Kakashi, scenting the air. “What do you think is so important he would risk his life again?”  
  
“Maybe he is looking for the last Icha Icha books,” Kakashi hums, already slipping through the rubble. “I can respect a man with his priorities in order.”  
  
Pakkun lets out a snort and leads the pack after Kakashi, silently darting through rotten wood and vines.  
  
They spy the young man poking gingerly through some of the rubble in what once was the residential district. Kakashi makes a spur of the moment decision and leaps to the top of one of the crumbling roof tops of an apartment block. He crouches down into a squat and watches the young man carefully pick his way into one of the larger piles of rubble.  
  
“I feel a little bad for him, boss,” Akino utters, coming up beside him and sitting down. The other ninken similarly find themselves a perch about the place to watch the foolhardy young man; their heads canted with puzzled interest.

“Hn?” Kakashi glances sideways at Akino, his eyes half closed in false disinterest.

“We've picked this area clean. All he's going to find is dirt. Feels like he's risked his life for nothing.”  
  
Kakashi hums a little and places a palm on Akino's head. “We could always attempt a trade.”  
  
The young man lets out an oath as the pile of rotten wood he has been standing on collapses under his weight, leaving him waist deep in debris. Kakashi shakes his head in wonder – uncertain how such a man managed to make it to Konoha unscathed.  
  
“Would you do the honors?” Kakashi asks, but Akino has already darted off the roof and slipped away.

He returns his watch to the young man, who is now wriggling his way free of his confinement, and looking a little red about the face as he does so.  
  
It takes a few minutes for Akino to return from Kakashi's home, but when he does he has one of the brightly colored academy scrolls clamped in his jaws. He casually wanders to a spot clear of rubble and sits, waiting to be seen.  
  
Kakashi exhales with gusto at the amount of time it takes the youngster to notice the ninken sitting no less than 10 meters away in plain sight. Pakkun leaps up beside Kakashi on the roof top, his squashed face expressing earnest curiosity.  
  
“Has it truly become so much safer to travel the roads out here?” Kakashi asks. He can't help but express his profound puzzlement.  
  
Pakkun lets out a growl that would do an old man proud. “I'm beginning to think this kid is stupid lucky to be alive. You know there were those rumors about that group wandering around... what did they call themselves? The Akatuski?”  
  
Kakashi nods. “And from what I understand, Orochimaru has a few people of his own wandering through the forest. Maa, you might be right, luck is on his side.”  
  
They both turn their attention back to the ground. The young man has finally spotted Akino and has approached him cautiously, looking ready to take flight at any moment. Kakashi can't quite make out their voices from his position, but he has every faith that Akino will make a fair trade.  
  
Akino drops the scroll to his front paws, showing off the fair condition of the academy case. The youngster eyes the scroll and the ninken with a healthy amount of trepidation. He carefully scans his surroundings as he looks for the ninken summoner. Kakashi and Pakkun slink back a little on their roof top to remain out of view. While the youth cannot find them, he rightly remains wary, there's a tenseness to his posture that suggests he is ready to fight if he has to.

A long few minutes pass in taught silence, the ninken and the young man stare at each other, waiting to see who will make the first move. Akino finally speaks to the young man, wagging his tail in show of friendly intentions. Kakashi is out of earshot and he resists the urge to move closer – being spotted now would undoubtedly make their guest run. Kakashi is in no rush: Akino will relay everything he needs to know.  
  
There is a stretch of uneasy silence before the young man slowly moves forward. He kneels slowly before Akino and begins removing something from inside his travel pack and placing it carefully on the ground. Akino leans forward and gives it a sniff before nosing the scroll toward the young man. With the trade complete their guest quickly checks the contents of the scroll and tucks it hurriedly away. He wastes no time shifting back into a safe distance, giving Akino an uneasy bow.

Showing he has some survival instincts, the young man takes one nervous glance around the rubble before hastily darting once more into the tree line.  
  
Pakkun lets out a low hum of consideration before jumping down from the roof. Kakashi follows after him at a leisurely pace, taking his time to meet with Akino. He is not certain why he is hesitant to gather information, though he knows the familiarity of the young man bothers him more than it should. It has just been so long since he met anyone he could call friendly.

Akino finally strolls up to Kakashi and sits, his mouth clamped around a carefully wrapped object. Kakashi offers a hand and Akino releases it into his grip, wagging his tail.  
  
It's a small wooden box wrapped in a handkerchief. It smells strongly of the young man, but also of something else. Kakashi's eyes narrow as he lifts the fabric to his nose, scenting deeply. It smells like... something sweet – like bean paste. Kakashi's eyes narrow a fraction and he carefully unwraps the cloth. The tomoe of his Sharingan whirl as he searches for chakra threads.  
  
“His name's Umino Iruka.” Akino interrupts the silence. “He's looking for scrolls of learning, and he's willing to trade.”

Kakashi's gaze turns inward as he searches for any familiarity in the name. He shakes his head when nothing comes immediately to mind, and carefully opens the box. His eyes widen as the contents are revealed – several carefully cut bars of yōkan. Kakashi almost groans. It has been so long since he last had any, decades even. His mouth waters at the sight.  
  
His fingers nearly shake as he carefully lifts one of the sweet bars to his lips -- inhaling the rich scent as he does. He knows Pakkun and Akino are watching him with rapt attention, but he ignores them for the moment. His whole world narrows to the smell and nearly forgotten taste of the sweet. He nearly cries when he takes the first bite. The rich flavor floods his mouth like a burst dam and his eyes shut to hide their watering betrayal.

“Boss?” Pakkun's deep voice tries to pry him from his reverie, but Kakashi is not ready to leave it. He takes another slow bite, savoring the way the treat sticks to the roof of his mouth. With a deep exhale he opens his eyes and carefully closes the box, tucking it safely in his jacket pocket.  
  
“We will trade with him again.” Kakashi nods, then turns on his heel to return to his garden.  
  
Out of Kakashi's sight, Akino winks at Pakkun.

 

~~~~~~~

  
Iruka quickly becomes Kakashi's favored trader. He doesn't always bring sweets, or food – although those are the visits Kakashi looks forward to most. He also brings useful things, like tweezers, nails, and scissors. Kakashi even finds himself enjoying the conversations he eavesdrops on. Iruka makes no attempts to mislead or hide his true intentions. He has an effortless and refreshingly open quality about him that makes Kakashi wish to approach him, despite his rules on no contact.  
  
Soon Iruka has met every one of Kakashi's ninken and knows them each by name. He spoils them rotten by bringing them specially made dog treats, rubbing their ears and generally just giving them the attention and respect they deserve. Bull even rolls over for Iruka, allowing him to rub his great belly.  
  
Its shameless favoritism, but Kakashi finds he can't begrudge them for it. He often catches himself wondering what it would be like to have Iruka's affection directed at him instead.

Iruka never asks to see him -- though the way he glances around the rubble suggests he is curious. He also never asks for anything more than training manuals, although Kakashi suspects he knows there are other things of far greater value hidden here. It is all very perplexing – but Kakashi is enjoying the mystery – it's given him something to think on over the weeks.

Pakkun on the other hand can't help but pry. As he takes on the role as head trader, he begins to casually ask questions while picking and choosing from the small array of goods Iruka lays out for him. Kakashi can hear it all from his carefully concealed position – beneath a large pile of rubble that collapsed in such a way that it created a nice hiding space for a man Kakashi's size.

“What do you need all these scrolls for anyway?” Pakkun asks as he carefully sniffs at a small stack of books.  
  
“I'm a teacher,” Iruka admits, squatting down to look through the small collection of scrolls. He reads the labels carefully as if deciding which are more valuable. “These training scrolls are so rare now, and they are such a great help to my students. Too few of the shinobi from before are around to teach.” There's a quiet solemnity to Iruka's voice as he answers. “So much of our history was lost when the tailed beasts attacked. I guess I'm just trying to help piece it back together.”  
  
Pakkun huffs and cants his head to the side. “You know what dangers there are in the forest, it seems like an awfully big risk.”

Iruka's eyes crease a little in a sort of wincing smile. “Some things are worth the danger.”

Kakashi feels a coil of unease in his stomach at those words. Sooner or later the forest will claim Iruka as it has so many before -- Kakashi finds the notion unpleasant. If Iruka is telling the truth that he is working to rebuild a part of the nation that was lost, it will be a shame to lose the beginning of something so fragile.  
  
Kakashi waits until the trade is done and for Iruka to depart before he settles down beside Pakkun, sifting through their acquired goods.  
  
“I want Shiba to follow him back,” He says. “Find out where he comes from.”  
  
Pakkun regards him silently for a moment then nods and gets to his feet, trotting off to find Shiba.  
  
Something in the assorted goods catches Kakashi's eye and he picks it up carefully. It's a card with a childishly drawn picture of his ninken on the front. Kakashi frowns in puzzlement, then flips it open to reveal several notes, each written in a young hand, and each of them thanking him and his hounds for their scrolls. Every note has a carefully written name of the author underneath. None of the names are familiar, but his mind has already committed them to memory. His heart feels like it's being squeezed within his chest.

 

~~~~~~~

 

That night he dreams of Rin and Obito. They train together, the symbol of the Hidden leaf proudly present on their clothing, the familiar banter and animosity ever present. But where the dream would usually turn into a nightmare, with Rin and Obito's painful deaths, there is a change.  
  
Umino Iruka invades Kakashi's subconscious where he has no business being. In reality, Iruka would not have been the grown man he is in Kakashi's dream, being younger than Kakashi; and yet he takes Rin's and Obito's hands in his own and leads them away from Kakashi as if he were their mentor. He leads them into the forest, stopping only once to glance back over his shoulder at Kakashi, who remains stuck in place, his heart and legs full of lead. All he can do is watch as his team disappears into the forest.

When Kakashi wakes he feels bereft and irritable – no matter how long he spends with his summoned ninken or visiting the memorial sites of his friends and family -- he can't shake the profound loneliness that sinks over him. He lays awake, staring into the dark of his home.

“You were talking in your sleep again,” Pakkun mumbles, half-awake beside him. “You know you can always leave. You're not dead, your ghost isn't bound here.”  
  
“I'm at peace here.” Kakashi lets out a deep sigh and rolls over turning his back to Pakkun. He is stubbornly clinging to the familiar and soothing hollow feeling in his chest like a child would a favored toy.

“Is it really peace? Or are you just waiting to die?”  
  
“What's the difference?” Kakashi exhales tiredly.  
  
“If it was really peace, you wouldn't be afraid to leave and live,” Pakkun huffs.  
  
“I'm protecting what's left.” Kakashi feels his irritation grow.  
  
“You're afraid,” Pakkun insists. “The dead don't care if you're here or not, they can't be hurt any more.”  
  
Kakashi's brow furrows and he raises his hands to form a release symbol. The chakra keeping Pakkun present dissipates suddenly. Kakashi refuses to look and see Pakkun's disapproving stare as he forces the ninken to vanish in a puff of smoke.  
  
Hey lays in silence, unable to return to sleep. His mind stubbornly whirls through images of worlds beyond his own. It only succeeds into making him get up and begin his morning work out.

The truth is he feels no yearning to leave; when he stands at the borders of his home and stares out at the world beyond the only thing he feels is emptiness. Konoha is where his broken heart feels the pain of death and loss with every dull throb, but at least it is something.  


~~~~~~~  
  


It is a day and a night before Shiba finally returns. He comes loping tiredly through the forest and flops down at Kakashi's feet with a deep sigh. Kakashi is carefully reading manuscripts with his sharingan but he sets them aside to rest a hand on Shiba's exhausted furry head.  
  
“He was telling the truth. There's a small village up near the mountains, he has a school.”

“Were you seen?” Kakashi asks.  
  
“Yeah, I caught up to him pretty quick, decided it would be best to just ask him for the tour. The kids are cute.”  
  
Kakashi resists the urge to growl. He is already angry at Pakkun, he doesn't need the whole pack in the dog house.  
  
“That wasn't the plan.”

“It wasn't,” Shiba agrees and closes his eyes. “But I needed to feel a little bit of nostalgia.”  
  
Kakashi's eyes narrow, waiting for another of his nin-dogs to stick its nose where it wasn't wanted.  
  
“He's coming back soon. I picked out some things that you might like to trade with him.” Shiba mumbled, letting out a wide yawn.  
  
“You shouldn't have encouraged him to travel here,” Kakashi scolds.  
  
“We could always go to him, Boss.”

Kakashi stares at Shiba in barely concealed irritation. He _could_ send his ninken out to trade, but the trip is clearly exhausting and left him one pack member down for more than the journey itself. Although it seemed likely that his pack was better equipped for survival, Iruka is not his responsibility.  
  
Kakashi shakes his head. “No. I wont risk it.”  
  
Shiba shrugged. “Suit yourself. I need to sleep.”  
  
Kakashi nods and releases him from the summon. Above him, settled carefully on his home-constructed shelving, the thank-you card from Iruka's students looms. Kakashi closes his eyes and exhales sharply through his nose.  
  
Iruka's safety _is not_ his priority.

He can't leave his treasures or his ghosts alone for a school teacher.

 

~~~~~~~

  
  
A day later, Kakashi makes some long thought out decisions. He takes pains to collect up every scroll that will aid Iruka's classes -- no matter the age or skill group, and carefully wraps each and every one of them and packs them into individual bags for each of his ninken. It takes him several hours, but soon enough all that remains unpacked are the forbidden jutsus.

  
When he summons his ninken, they each scent the air in confusion before turning to Kakashi for orders.  
  
“I want you to take these to Iruka,” He explains quietly. “Tell him after this, there is nothing left, and that he will no longer be welcome in Konoha.”  
  
Pakkun sits on his haunches and frowns, his squashed face creasing even further. “What's going on, boss?”  
  
“It's not safe for him to continue coming out here. There is little point in me hanging onto these scrolls when they could be used to help what is left of the leaf survive.”

The ninken exchange glances.  
  
“You could tell him that yourself,” Shiba interrupts, his mouth open in a wolfish smile.  
  
Kakashi glares at him.

“Just a suggestion,” Shiba replies innocently. Kakashi lets out a frustrated noise and turns on his heel. He begins fussing with the packs, making sure for the third time that they are all secured and ready to go.

The ninken move into formation at Kakashi's word. Pakkun gives him one last judgemental look over his shoulder before they sprint off into the woods. Kakashi pointedly stares back.  
  
He watches after them for a few moments longer before he turns back to his little home. Secure in the knowledge that as a pack they will keep each other safe. Pakkun doesn't take risks.

The recycled wood and rock walls of his abode seem a little empty without the ninken around, and Kakashi stands in the middle of the ramshackle house examining everything critically. All is still and quiet around him, and he finds himself briefly at a loss. The new found space he has from removing the large pile of scrolls needs to be cleaned and dusted for his newest project -- there are still more seeds that need tending, and he has collected and made small trays for the seedlings to take root. Still, he stares at the shelving for a while in a daze before he shakes himself into action.  
  
Several hours later and the silence has begun to bother him. There was a time where he went almost a year without seeing or speaking to anyone -- just after the attack on the village, when everyone who had survived had fled into the woods. At the time it was what he had needed -- at least that is what he told himself -- a punishment for the crime of being alive. But when he signed the contract with the ninken he found a relief and solace in their company he had not been expecting. Even when they are not around, he finds the knowledge that they are only a summon away comforting.

He cannot summon them now.  
  
Kakashi works through every chore and exercise he can possibly fit into one day, trying to distract himself from the jumble of dangerous thoughts that swirl around his mind. He deliberately stays up later than usual, ignoring the call of sleep and the dark of his bedroom.

In the dark his thoughts and feelings are free to run wild without the disturbance of sight and sound and he really doesn't want to analyze the hungry depths of his psyche.

When he finally crawls into bed, it's with the small lamp still burning bright beside him. He tells himself it's because he might want to get up and work on something else during the night, and he doesn't want to have to fumble around for the matches. Even so, it takes him a long time to allow his eyelids to close.

His dreams are troubled, filled with empty rooms and a silence so thick that is seems to swallow any sound he makes. The ghosts of friends and family are no where to be seen. Where, previously, they would haunt and taunt him through the night, now there is nothing. He finds their absence more harrowing than their constant tormenting.  
  
When morning arrives, he has barely slept at all. His eyes creak open to the harsh light streaming through the make-shift window of his little room. The lamp has burnt down to nothing and his cheeks are wet with tears. Both of these things he ignores as he forces himself up to start the day.  
  
He catches himself reflexively reaching to write out the summoning jutsu for his pack, and frowns heavily at his own actions. Instead, like the day before, he finds himself projects to keep himself busy. But as the day stretches on he begins counting down the hours until his pack is due to return. He is distracted from re-building several key parts of his growing garden shed, his eyes often seeking the tree line where they had run off the day prior.

When the pack doesn't arrive on the third day, Kakashi begins pacing. He could simply cancel the chakra flow he is using to keep them on this plane, but his impatience might cost someone their life. What if something were wrong?  
  
Kakashi inhales sharply and shakes his head but the thought sticks in place like a stain in his mind. What if they never made it to Iruka's village? What if they had and decided never to come back?

He growls at himself, his thoughts a mixture of defiant denial, and fear. He doesn't really need the nin -- he was fine before they came along, and he will be fine now. But if they are in danger or if they have lost more of their dwindling numbers...  
  
Kakashi shakes his head again viciously -- trying to derail his own thoughts.

The Hokage mountain looms over him as he tries in vain to return to his work. But where he once felt the weight of their presence, now he feels nothing.  
  
The shrine he had erected in lieu of a graveyard once tugged his heart with the heaviness and judgement of the dead. But as he lays a palm on it now, again there is only silence. His evenings are no longer haunted by Rin or Obito.  
  
In a panic he runs into the remains of the Hatake family compound. There is no flicker of ghostly memory as he stands in the room his father had been found dead in, he doesn't even feel the anger or shame that used to come with the image of his family.

For the first time in a long time, Kakashi truly feels alone. His breath quickens and his vision begins to blacken. There is a high pitched ringing in his ears as he stumbles, catching himself against the rotted wood of his family home. He struggles to catch his breath, and his heart begins to pound frantically in his chest.

It takes him several alarmed moments to realize that he is having a panic attack. He forces himself to breath evenly, and carefully seats himself on the floor. It takes a few tries to get himself to relax enough to enter meditative breathing. But even as he calms, his hands remain cold and slightly shaky.

Tears slip unbidden down his cheeks and he hastily wipes them away, staring at the wetness on his hand as if it has offended him. His reactions are nonsensical; he tells himself over and over that there is nothing wrong, that soon everything will be as it was. But as he sits there, hours slip by, and still there is no sign of his ninken.

As the sun begins to sink behind the rubble of Konoha he begins to consider how fast he could get to the pack if he were to leave now. The panic flairs in his chest again and he stamps the feeling down viciously – there is no time for it, he has to think this through carefully. He can't protect Konoha alone, he knows that; it is also becoming painfully clear that he needs their company like he needs water and air. The risk of battle, the risk of wandering into civilization yet again is nothing in comparison to their lives.  
  
He sucks in a deep breath begins grabbing provisions blindly, stuffing food and water bottles into a bag. He barely even stops to consider his next move before he is out the door and sprinting towards the woods.  
  
He can't lose any more of them, _he can't._  
  
In his minds eye he can't escape the memories of losing the others. Urushi to an unnamed grave robber, Bisuke, Ūhei and Guruko to Orochimaru. Over and over again the visions of the past torment him as he goes. His pace is breakneck, barely stopping to catch his breath or eat as he runs through the woods. Tracking the old trail of Iruka and the fresher ones of his ninken.  
  
It seems to take an age -- the sun has well set into night and then risen again as he travels, climbing ever upwards towards the mountains. His limbs protest and his lungs burn with exhaustion, but he refuses to slow his pace. Then finally, _finally,_ when he can see and hear the sounds of civilization in the distance he slows, listening for signs of distress. He approaches with caution, keeping hidden amongst the trees.  
  
What he sees takes the breath from his lungs. Kakashi blinks hard, eyes wide in shock. The smell is the first thing to hit him. It was that niggling familiarity that clung to Iruka's skin. Now it rushes back to him with a force that nearly knocks him back. It's the life of the village, the smell of food and people, the smell of children and animals.

His movements seem sluggish to his own mind, but he can't seem to summon the energy to force himself on any quicker, not when another revelation makes his lungs constrict painfully. As he moves around the village it becomes alarmingly clear. It is rudimentary, but the layout is there-- town center with the council buildings, the shopping area, the academy... they are all in place, almost mirroring Konoha before her destruction.  
  
He feels a deep yearning in the depths of his chest and he rubs a tired hand over his tired eyes, forbidding any further tears to escape in his vulnerable state. He is here for one reason, and he will not leave until he has his ninken back with him.  
  
He approaches the academy, slipping onto the grounds in silence. Every nerve in his body on high alert. When he sees the children exit the academy hall like a swarm of ants spilling out of a hive, it is like he is unable to breathe all over again. For a moment the faces of Rin and Obito flicker before him amongst the mass of gleeful children running through the school fields. He sees the ghosts of his old teachers wandering through the halls. It is a living breathing Konoha.  
The names of the children who had made him the thank-you note flicker through his mind, and he finds himself trying to place them amongst the thinning hordes.  
  
Then he sees his ninken, they exit the building slowly and sit together, Pakkun at the head, facing Kakashi's hiding place from the doorway of the academy. Behind them Iruka stands looking uncertain, yet with that same steely expression he had on the day Kakashi had first laid eyes on him.  
  
“Kakashi.” Pakkun speaks softly.  
  
There is no hiding, now. The pack have exposed him. He slowly steps forward, brow furrowed as he tries to decide whether to be angry or relieved.  
  
“It's about time,” Shiba says lowly. “I was starting to wonder if we were going to have to drag you here.”

The sounds of play and commotion around them fades away. It seems the whole village has ground to a halt on the arrival of the stranger in their midst. They watch with quiet and wary eyes as Kakashi approaches.  
  
When he is only a few feet away Iruka smiles at him, and Kakashi is struck by the warmth of it. A moment ago he would not have thought it possible for Iruka to make such an expression, but here it is, just for him. He feels something in his heart ache at the sight of it.  
  
“It's nice to finally meet you, Kakashi-san.” Iruka bows. “I would like to personally thank you for your help in rebuilding the academy library. I would be honored if you would stay a while and join me for some ramen.”  
  
Kakashi stares at him. His heart pounds in his chest painfully. His mind supplies him with the almost long forgotten smell of the mouth-watering dish. Another scent he now will permanently attribute to Iruka. There will be no escaping the thought of Iruka no matter where he is now.

Around him the small version of Konoha seems to take on a life of its own. The bustle and energy of the living creating a vibrancy that has been missing for so long from Kakashi's life.

He feels as if he has gone back in time.  
  
When he looks up at the mountain he sees the beginnings of the facial carvings of the Hokage taking form on its rocky surface. A breath escapes him in a deep rush and he feels the unbidden tears begin to form in his eyes.  
  
Before they can fall onto his cheeks, he takes a deep breath and slowly takes a step forward.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you squint a bit you can see a little spark of Kakashi's affection for Iruka growing with his small shriveled heart.  
> I had this idea for a while and it took me way longer to write it into a story than I care to admit, but here we are!


End file.
